


save it for a rainy day

by smallerluke



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Nostalgia, Post-Break Up, i wrote something sad for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 09:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11010279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallerluke/pseuds/smallerluke
Summary: Gabriel allows himself a chance to mourn what they had.





	save it for a rainy day

 

Gabriel Reyes does not consider himself a nervous man.

Apprehensive, perhaps. Wary more often than not. But this—fidgeting with his beanie scrunched between his hands, feet following an invisible path down the barracks hall from the stairwell to the elevators and back—this is not him. This is him three months and eleven days after he stopped wearing his wedding band.

With that thought at the forefront of his mind he stops in front of the window and plunks his head against cool glass. The landing pad is slick with water and all but glowing with the hovercarrier’s lights. This is an old tradition he can no longer carry out in person. Only from the shadows, with cold fear heavy in his gut, can he stand to watch as black-clad security officers wait to usher Strike Commander Morrison onto the craft.

That’s all he is now. Strike Commander. Gabriel snakes a hand over the back of his neck. He’s tense, which isn’t unusual, but the chill that chases the touch _is_ . Like it’s _his_ touch. Part of an old goodbye.

* * *

 

_“You stay safe out there.”_

_Jack’s mouth cracks into a lopsided grin. Gabriel, heedless of the guards, leans in to kiss his laugh lines, his nose, the wrinkles on his forehead. Jack’s laughter inspires him to continue until he’s got his arms wrapped around him, awkward with both of them in full gear, professional save for the hand-knit wool scarf Jack’s thrown around his neck to ward off the Autumn chill. Yellow always suited Jack, but it clashes with the uniform._

_Arms slip around his shoulders. Jack pulls back, his grin reduced to a small, soft smile. “You know you don’t need to worry for a goddamn second, Gabe,” he teases, “The only dangerous thing about the prime minister is her wife’s cooking.”_

_“You’re gonna be halfway across the world. I’m gonna worry. Always do.” Gabriel tugs on the scarf. Jack rolls his eyes and lets out a huff._

_“I’ll call as often as I can.” Jack bends down and twists to kiss Gabriel’s cheek. “It’s only for a week, angel. I’ll bring you back something nice. Some of those maple sugar candies you like so much.”_

_There’s nothing sweeter than the kiss Jack leaves on his lips. Gloved hands circle his neck, his touch electric on his skin. Gabriel lets go and waves goodbye as the hovercarrier lifts off. He watches until it’s nothing more than a spot of gray in the sky._

* * *

 

Laughter piques down the hall, breaking Gabriel away from thoughts better left alone.

He pushes away from the window. He doesn’t live on the floor, not since—he swallows down his doubts and slips back towards door _407._ For a moment he freezes, his heart pounding and this throat thick, as he studies the black scuff marks left by Jack’s boots.

A memory rolls over him, cold as ice: Jack, his arms full of groceries, keys dangling from one hand. Olivia reaches a tiny hand out for the keys, brown eyes blown huge with interest. The moment they’re through the door Isaac runs ahead to help put things away and Gabriel settles down on the couch with their daughter.

A second round of thunderous laughter leaves him panicked and fumbling for the spare key. He slips inside and closes the latch as softly as he can, settling both hands against the cool wood.

Yellow sweeps under the crack in the door and stops at the toes of his boots. Ana’s voice cuts in over that booming laugh. A lock catches. A door opens and closes. Gabriel allows himself to relax, the key held so tightly in his grip that it leaves an imprint on his skin.

Neither Ana nor Rein need to know.

He steels himself and takes a long, deep breath before turning around and facing what used to be his home.

_Their_ home.

Not much has changed. The kitchen is a bit of a mess; there are boxes on the counters and dishes piled up in the sink. The living room fares better. It’s cleaned out. Empty. Half of the photos and memorabilia have been pulled off the walls and, from what Gabriel can tell, packed into the boxes sitting in an organized stack by the front door.

The bedroom door is shut. Gabriel tightens his grip on the spare key.

This was home, once; filled with music and laughter and noise one moment and then quiet and perfectly peaceful the next. He can see an imprint of himself, younger, happier, dancing with Jack in front of a low-burning fire; another of Jack hanging up one of Isaac’s drawings on the fridge, beaming with pride.

He touches his ring finger, half-expecting a cool metal band. Gone. Left in the top-right drawer of his office desk, buried under post-it notes and spare pens. His throat tightens. Better that way. He closes his eyes and forces his memories away but one springs back, strengthened by the patter of rain on the windows and the silence of the apartment.

* * *

 

_The clock burns the time—3:35am—into his eyes. Rolling over, he finds nothing but cool sheets. Gabriel fists a hand into them and closes his eyes again, his mind too groggy to work out what had woken him, his body too exhausted to move._

_Sleep moves over him, soft and smooth, until it is broken by the clatter of metal and a whispered curse. Gabriel lifts his head with far too much effort, teeth gritted past the ache in his skull. It’s pouring rain; it cascades down the glass and turns lightning into threads of yellow. Thunder chases it. A cry comes from the kitchen, followed by soft shushes and gentle words. Gabriel throws back the blankets and forces himself to his feet, rubbing sleep from his eyes._

_“Shh, shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Jack is standing with his back to Gabriel. The dim light from the open fridge trickles across his bare skin, highlighting scars. He bounces on his feet with Liv tucked in the crook of his arm. She lets out little grumbles and sobs as he cradles her, watching her with so much fear in his eyes that Gabriel’s heart aches._

_There’s a bottle and a pot on the stove. Maybe hunger had woken her, but she’s fussing now because of the storm._

_Thunder cracks again. The sound rips up Gabriel’s spine and puts his hairs on end. Liv lets out a proper cry and Jack freezes up, the muscles in his back tensed._

_For a moment, there is nothing more to Jack than terror. Gabriel moves through the dark. Jack’s expression is carefully neutral, but he can see thoughts churn behind his cloudy eyes, can feel his panic deep in his bones._

_“Here.” Gabriel gestures for Liv but Jack shakes his head and gestures with a nod to the bottle and pot of water instead._

_“I’ve got her,” he murmurs, “She’s just hungry. Scared, too.”_

_Jack rests back against the counter as Gabriel heats the bottle properly. Liv is such a tiny little thing in Jack’s arms, little more than a button nose, big brown eyes, and thick black curls. She watches him, silent now, a tiny hand reaching out and grasping at air. Jack’s expression tightens._

_“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Jack mumbles. There’s more behind his eyes but Gabriel doesn’t feel for his thoughts, allows him privacy. “I can take care of her. Go back to bed.”_

_Despite his words there is a plea in his voice. Gabriel sets one hand on his arm. He’s freezing cold. “We’re in this together, Jack.”_

_“I know, but...I don’t do enough. I can do more. Besides, you need your sleep. I can—”_

_Liv’s sudden cry cuts him off. Jack steps away, bouncing Liv as he whispers assurances. Maybe they mean as much to him as they do to her._

_“Saved the goddamn world,” Jack mutters, “But this is different...”_

_He chokes on the words and shakes his head, stepping away from Gabriel’s side. Liv reaches out a tiny hand and Gabriel lets her take his finger._

_“She loves you.” Jack steps closer, brushing shoulders. “She’s been watching the door for you since I got her.”_

_Gabriel doesn’t know what to say so he says nothing._

_Jack shifts his weight and gently places Liv on his shoulder. She releases Gabriel’s hand and rolls it into a tiny fist that rests against his collarbone. A small smile brightens Jack’s face._

_“Could you go check on Isaac? He’s usually fine, but…” Jack trails off, his eyes swinging from Gabriel’s face to their son’s bedroom door. “If he’s asleep don’t wake him.”_

_Isaac was awake and playing video games when Gabriel pushed the door open. He followed Gabriel out and took his baby sister from Jack to sit  cross-legged on the floor, laughing as she laughed. Gabriel slipped behind Jack and rested his head on his shoulder, quiet and peaceful despite the storm outside._

_A family._

* * *

 

He’s not here to reminisce. Gabriel gives his head a shake and pulls off his beanie to run a hand over his hair, eyes squeezed shut. The message was simple. _I found some of your things and put them in a box for you. Come by tonight._

He’d been too scared to chance seeing Jack in person, one-on-one. At meetings and debriefings it was easier; in uniform, they were just colleagues. Friends on a good day. Nothing more.

He takes a deep breath, steels himself, and heads for the bedroom door.

There are thousands of memories behind it but none surface as he pushes it open.

The smell of dust and smoke hits him. The window is cracked open and cool air leaks in, a slight touch against his skin. There’s nothing more than a bottom sheet on the bed and a pillow. Clothes pile up on Jack’s desk and office chair, covering paperwork and his computer terminal.

It’s the kind of mess he’s expected. Gabriel kicks aside shoes left on the floor and sits on the end of the bed, both hands braced on his knees.

Jack hasn’t had time to take the pictures down in their room, it seems. Gabriel stares at his dim reflection in the glass of their wedding portrait. Well, _official_ wedding portrait; their first wedding, conducted in the middle of the night at a church in Busan, had nothing but a single grainy cellphone picture as evidence.

Gabriel isn’t looking at the camera. He’s looking at _Jack_ , of course; his hair is combed down and he looks far too stiff in his kilt, but he’d been entranced by that lopsided smile, had rushed in despite the photographer’s directions to press a loud kiss to his husband’s cheek. Jack had laughed so hard he turned red and had to take a break before they could resume. In the rest, though, his grin is wider, his eyes bright.

He tears his eyes away and drums his fingers on his knees. This is... _wrong_. It’s not his home anymore. Unease settles in his gut only for him to swallow it down, push it away.

He pulls himself to his feet and moves through their old bedroom.

It’s like moving through a battlefield, somehow; there is a threat in every miniscule change. The half-empty glasses of water on the nightstand. A pair of reading glasses on the pillow. There is a pack of cigarettes on the windowsill and an overflowing ashtray to explain the smell. Gabriel picks at the carton but thinks twice about it, sets them back down.

The only thing that remains the same is Jack’s old record player. The table it was set on is gone, so it sits on the floor. A few albums are spread out beside it. Gabriel toes at them to check the titles. Rush’s _Moving Pictures_ , CCR’s _Green River_ , and—Gabriel chokes on a laugh at Jack’s guilty pleasure—ABBA’s _Arrival._ ELO’s _Out of the Blue_ sits on the player.

He hides his grin behind a hand. Some things never change. Jack’s taste in music had never evolved.

Happiness settles sour in his gut. Smile fading, he gives his head a shake and thumbs at his beard.

He traces the grooves in the vinyl.

He remembers long summer nights with music turned down low, skin on skin, the taste of ash and whiskey on Jack’s tongue. Chasing the beat of his heart with his mouth, mapping his skin under his hands. Building Overwatch had left them exhausted and boneless but they’d been so in _love_ , so free after the crisis.

Now, Gabriel can’t remember the last time they’d gone out for the night or touched hands or so much as kissed each other goodbye.

He only remembers the quiet. How the walls of the place he’d called home had grown cold and constricting. How’s Jack’s silence ate away at him, leaving his worries to gather strength.

He’d reasoned it away at first, of course. Work was getting to them. Petras was breathing down their necks. Without Blackwatch, without public trust, Overwatch stood on shaky ground. Reporters were beating Jack down every chance they got. Going right for the jugular.

Silence gave way to fights that came suddenly, without warning. Gabriel’s fault.

The quiet gave Gabriel far too much time to think and see between the cracks.

* * *

 

_He’s just dropped Liv off at her dorm when he gets the call. Angela, her voice hoarse with fatigue, words sharp: “We need you here right now,” she says, “Emergency meeting. Why weren’t you answering our calls?”_

_He pulls the phone away to check his call log. Sure enough he’d missed more than a few. “Sorry,” he grunts, “Took Liv back to school. She needed help fixing her bookshelf, and—”_

_“We don’t have time to chat. Just get here.” Angela inhales sharply. He can hear muffled voices and the scrape of chairs. “Quickly, Commander Reyes. Please.”_

_When he arrives an hour later, the room goes silent. Angela hides her face behind a data pad. Winston and their new agent, Tracer, sidle off and continue talking in whispers. Jack stands at the head of the table, expression weary and unfathomably angry._

_“We’ve been waiting.” Jack straightens. He’s using his Strike Commander voice. Gabriel’s gut drops. “Where were you?”_

_“I had today off. I took Liv out for dinner,” Gabriel grunts. “I told you this morning.”_

_Jack pulls his eyes away. It’s clear he’s forgotten, but shame doesn’t show through his thinly veiled anger. “Press got a hold of classified details from Iceland.”_

_His blood goes cold. Gabriel shakes his head. “That’s not possible,” he mutters. He glances at the faces in the room. They’re all quiet and watchful but turn away, pretending they aren’t listening. “We can talk about this alone.”_

_“Everyone knows now.” Jack pushes away from the table. His rigid stance melts off his shoulders. Gabriel watches the sway of his overcoat as he strides to the window and turns back to beckon to him._

_There’s no more privacy in the corner of the debriefing room than there was in the middle of it. Hot eyes sting against the back of his neck. He wishes that Jack would just dismiss them. This feels like a public execution._

_“You knew we had to keep it quiet, Gabe—”_

_“It_ was _quiet. No one knew a goddamn thing.” He keeps his voice low and even, careful. He doesn’t need to set Jack off when he’s already wound so tight. “We were in and out in forty-five, Jack. Five of my most trusted agents. No one saw us.”_

_“Then how the hell did the press get this?”_

_His gut clenches. Jack holds out a datapad but he shakes his head and doesn’t take it._

_“Blackwatch is_ suspended _,” Jack hisses, “Do you have any idea how this looks for us?”_

_“Of course I fucking know,” Gabriel snaps back. “It was simple recon. We didn’t hurt anyone. We’re trying to help people, Jack. So—”_

_“They’re not going to see that, Gabe, and you know it.” Jack jabs a finger into his chest. Gabriel’s ego, wounded, makes his skin burn hotter. “We need to find that leak. I thought you could handle it.”_

_“I can, Jack, I just need—”_

_“Prove it.”_

_Jack turned on his heel and slipped out the door without another word. Gabriel ignores Angela and Winston’s attempts at reasoning with him and stalks home, only to find the apartment bare and empty._

_Jack doesn’t come home that night._

* * *

 

_Separated_ doesn’t quite cut it, Gabriel thinks. It feels more like an open wound that he’s trying to hold together, ignoring the ache of it. He’s kept himself busy, buried himself in what little work he’s able to do under Petras’ watch, worried over Isaac’s next steps through life as he explores the first year of his marriage, been much too involved in Liv’s schoolwork. His kids are sick of him, and he can tell, but their smiles don’t change.

There are pictures of them on the walls, too, of all four of them. Graduation pictures and vacation photos and highlights from ugly Christmas sweater contests at his Aunt’s house back in California. Jack always won those.

The frames are coated with a fine layer of dust. Gabriel wipes one of them clean with his sleeve. Isaac and Liv, 12 and 2, respectively, are each tucked into one of Jack’s armpits and looking particularly unimpressed about it.

He is tempted to sit down on Jack’s side of the bed and study the pictures on the nightstand, too, but he pushes the impulse away. He is here to pick up the last of his things so his lodgings down in Blackwatch headquarters can graduate from a bare, cold room to something resembling home.

Throat tight, he picks around the room, searching for perhaps one of his old suitcases or a box. He finds lots of the latter, all half-packed with books and junk Jack should have thrown away years ago.

This would have been simpler if Jack had chosen a night when he was in Switzerland, Gabriel thinks bitterly as he kicks over a stack of folded t-shirts. It would have been harder, one-on-one. But it would have been over and done with. He wouldn’t be here, combing through the place they’d called home for twenty years, assaulted by memories.

The wind howls outside the window and rattles the frame. The curtains billow out as cold rushes into the room, rolling over his skin like a wave. The air is freezing and slightly damp from the rain, but it smells _good_ , like so many nights he could never forget.

Nights camping outside Stuttgart, stargazing in Mont Mégantic, a landing pad in the Rockies, the rain coming down so hard he was soaked through the moment he stepped off the helicopter.

The chill settles in his bones. Gabriel suppresses a shiver and runs his hands through his hair. His eyes fall on a heather gray sweater. He bites his tongue to distract himself from the sudden sting of tears in his eyes.

He lowers himself to one knee to pull it out from underneath a box and rolls the fabric in his hands. The SEP logo is faded and almost worn away. There are holes along the hem and rips in the sleeves, coffee stains and bloodstains and a badly mended tear in the shoulder.

Jack never leaves home without it.

Gabriel sits down on the edge of the bed, legs too weak to keep him standing a moment longer. He pulls it up in his fist, inhaling deeply. It had been his, once, but it smells like Jack and very faintly like cigarette smoke, even though Jack has supposedly kicked the habit for good.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Jack doesn’t wear his ring anymore. Why should he hold onto this?

He’s tempted to pull it on over his thin undershirt but resists the impulse. Gabriel tosses it onto the pillow, instead, and lowers his head into his hands. He breathes in, remembering his own advice. _Take the pieces. Pull them apart. Put them where they make sense._

Fights had become common shortly after their team left King’s Row. Their foundation had been shaky before, but both of them had wanted to fix it, or at least, wanted to _try._

When had that changed? The night they discovered the leaks? Or sooner, without him even realizing it?

* * *

 

_He comes home late one evening, his body sore from sitting on a carrier flight for far longer than he would have liked. A quick shower has loosened him up somewhat, but he’s tired right down to his marrow, super soldier enhancements useless against accumulated fatigue. His age doesn’t help matters much; he’s past 50 now and starting to show it._

_He’s thinking about catching the rest of a game and falling asleep on the couch when Jack intercepts him, falling into his arms without a word._

_Gabriel holds him, half expecting Jack to pull away and start talking, but he goes still on his shoulder. He is completely silent, not even the sound of his breath reaching Gabriel’s ears. He feels for Jack’s thoughts and sees only white, feels only a knot deep in his chest._

_He runs a hand over the back of Jack’s neck. His hair is standing on end and there is a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Judging by what Jack’s wearing, he wasn’t sleeping, so it can’t have been a nightmare. Something else then, something deeper, something that sticks to the insides of his ribs and won’t let go._

_“Hey,” Gabriel whispers, “Sorry I’m home so late. You know how it is.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Gabriel rocks them back and forth as he tightens his hold on his husband. Jack doesn’t reciprocate, just stays stiff on his shoulder, arms hanging at his sides. Gabriel’s head circles around this fact but he  forces his worries away, softens his hold, lets his hands rest on the small of Jack’s back, thumbs moving up and down the edges of his spine._

_Jack won’t meet his gaze, so he asks outright._

_“What’s on your mind, Jack?”_

_Jack slides out of his arms, eyes stuck on the floor. He rubs at his collarbone with the flat of his palm. “Nothing important,” he murmurs, “I just—”_

_His throat bobs. An awkward smile appears and fades in the same moment._

_Jack takes one of Gabriel’s hands in both of his and runs his thumb along the inside of his wrist. He traces scars and callouses with a touch so soft and careful that Gabriel loses track of his breathing. His expression remains inscrutable, his eyes dark and weary, head somehow still clear._

_“Just missed you. That’s all. Glad you’re home.”_

_He brings Gabriel’s palm to his mouth and lays a lingering kiss there before he drops it and turns away._

_Jack fades around the corner. The bedroom door shuts tight and the bar of light under the door fades. Gabriel runs a hand over his head. His palm still burns with Jack’s kiss._

_He wants to follow, but Jack needs his space, and he sits down on the couch instead and falls asleep listening to the screech of shoes on a basketball court and the roar of a crowd._

* * *

 

It hits him square in the chest and knocks the breath from his lungs.

Could that have been it?

He hadn’t followed, hadn’t pressed, so used to guessing when Jack needed space and when he needed him to push. He’d seemed fine the following morning, if not a little quiet, but that wasn’t anything unusual. Jack says everything through actions rather than words. He still made coffee in the morning and sat at the table under warm yellow light to check over his schedule for the day, their ankles tangled together, comfortable in silence.

Or at least, he’d thought it was comfortable.

Maybe he didn’t know Jack’s tells as well as he thought he did.

It’s not all on him, and he knows it, but guilt settles in his gut despite his own assurances.

Gabriel rubs at his eyes as he pulls himself off the bed. He’s lingered far too long here but feels like he cannot move. The second he walks back through the door, the last of his things in hand, it’s over. Done.

Nothing more to say. No more excuses.

He wishes he was still wearing his ring. That he could spin it around his finger to quell his nerves. Pull it off and inspect the spots where he’s rubbed the gold down. Read the inscription on the inside of the band, words meant only for him and Jack to know.

A geotag, a date, and three words: _you’re my home._

He feels for the sweater he’s thrown aside and pulls it over his head, pushing down a wave of thoughts. He needs _something_ , no matter how small, just for a moment. That’ll be enough.

He slips off the end of the bed and pulls the hem down as he crosses the room to the record player. He gives the vinyl a spin with a finger. He can barely remember how to work the thing, but he somehow sets the needle properly and turns the volume down low.

Music flows over his skin like cold water. A shock to his system that tightens around his throat like a fist. He was somewhere halfway through the record, if he remembers right. Jack used to leave it on repeat and he hums along despite the thick lump in his throat.

Gabriel slides down against the wall to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest. He focuses on his breathing, ragged now.

He never much cared for Jack’s taste in music, but the way this album moves, highs and lows and soft moments, reminds him of countless nights: a rooftop under a canopy of stars, the backseat of a rented car in Athens with Jack’s hands hot on the small of his back, a night playing board games with the whole of their group assembled, nearly twenty people packed into their living room.

A rush of wind throws open the curtains. The patter of rain becomes a drum beat against the windows. He’s not aware that he’s crying until he leans over and sees dark spots on his jeans.

He wipes them away with the back of his hand and bites down hard on his tongue. Gabriel chokes on a sob as the dam he’s spent three months building cracks. Pressure builds behind his eyes and spreads through his skull, pulsing with the beat of his heart.

It’s good to feel something, he thinks, good to let it out. That’s the rational side of him talking. His heart aches with the force of it as he draws in a shaky breath. Goddamn, it feels so strange to be home, so…

Wrong.

Without Jack it feels _wrong._

He picks himself up off the floor before the chorus of _Big Wheels_ hits. Gabriel stumbles toward the door and hits a box with his foot. Stalled, he bends down and peels back the lid, wiping his face with his free hand as he feels among some of his clothes and books.

His name is scrawled on the side in red pen. Jack’s shitty handwriting. That’s it. Gabriel feels among the contents, half expecting to find a note. Nothing.

Gabriel throws it under his arm and straightens.

It’s over, he thinks. It’s time to say goodbye and turn his back on this. All of this.

It hurts far more than he ever thought it could. They’d had their ups and downs, sure. Who didn’t? But this wasn’t them, wasn’t _right._

He swallows the thoughts and wipes his cheeks.

Gabriel shoulders through the bedroom door and stops dead in the kitchen.

The front door is open.

Framed by the blackness of the hall is Jack, soaked through with his dress uniform coat folded over one arm. He lets it fall and stands prone, open, hands at his sides.

Gabriel’s stomach drops to the floor.

The circles under Jack’s eyes have darkened, which only makes the blue of his eyes so much more intense. He watches Gabriel, unblinking, focused.

Gabriel shifts under the scrutiny. He pulls at his collar, lets his hand roam up over the curve of his shoulder to rest on the back of his neck. He’s already sweating from nerves.

He needs to get out, but he can’t move, can’t bear the thought of walking past Jack to the door.

Jack is the first to break the stalemate. It’s simple. His voice is dark and smoky but it’s not unfriendly, just awkward.

“...Hey.”

That’s it. Gabriel’s mouth goes dry like Jack has said far more. He tears his eyes away to stare at the floor and mumbles out what he needs to say. “Thought you were on your way to New York.”

“I was. Cancelled.” Jack rocks back on his feet. “Sent someone else. I…”

Jack bites on his lip. He shakes his head, seems to think better of whatever he was going to say. As he crosses the apartment to set his keys down on the kitchen counter Gabriel takes a few careful steps toward the door.

He’s not ready to run. Doesn’t _want_ to run. But he needs the escape route.

He watches as Jack takes his time slipping out of his tie. Deft fingers work at his collar to loosen it up. Jack looks good like this. Always has. Gabriel fights down the impulse to move toward him, to touch him.

Separated. Barely friends, now.

“Figured you’d be gone by now,” Jack whispers, voice hoarse.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Gabriel fires back. He hefts the box for emphasis. “Don’t worry about it. You need me, you know where to find me.”

He makes it three steps before Jack rushes towards him. “Wait—”

Jack’s hand barely brushes his arm before he snaps it away and retreats a few uneven steps. There’s fear in his eyes. Real fear. Guilt drips like wax down Gabriel’s spine as Jack composes himself, blinking hard, mouth open but perfectly silent.

“What do you want, Jack?” Gabriel’s unable to put any bite behind the words and it comes out like a plea, like he’s begging, and he curses himself under his breath. This is what he gets for lingering when he should have been in and out.

Would have saved himself time and tears.

Jack braces a hand on the counter and tips his head toward the bedroom door. The track is nearing the end and starting to fade. “What I want—” He cuts himself short with a huff, turning away and stalking down the hall. He stops in front of the kitchen window and pushes open the curtains. The rain hasn’t let up at all.

Gabriel waits, but Jack remains quiet. He shifts the box onto his hip and rolls his fingers along the edge of the cardboard.

His throat grows tighter with every passing moment. The next tracks kicks up, far livelier than the last. Jack perks up a little to look into the bedroom, eyes fogged over, the dim light from outside carving deep lines into his face.

Jack turns on his heel and leans back against the window, arms slowly winding across his chest. He seems to think twice about it and slips his hands into his pockets instead as he pushes away from the window and falls into a step.

He offers one hand, palm up. Water drips down from his hair and slips over his brow.

“What I want right now is a strong cup of coffee and a chance to just—fuck, I don’t know. Sit and clear my head.” He lifts his chin. There’s something earnest in his eyes that makes Gabriel’s breath hitch. “Stay?”

It becomes clear that Jack’s waiting for an answer but Gabriel can’t think of what to say. Half of him is screaming to get out, to run back to his pathetic little dorm down in Blackwatch where he can lay awake all night thinking of what he’d done, what he should have done differently. The other, far more powerful half begs for him to say yes.

Nostalgia, he tells himself. It’s a byproduct of the memories, good and bad, that had assaulted him the moment he crossed the threshold.

Old magic. Strange magic.

He stands numb by the door as Jack moves through the kitchen to fill the coffee pot. The smell, fresh and earthy, makes up his mind for him. Gabriel gently sets the box down on the edge of the counter and slides into a chair.

Jack moves like a ghost. Quiet and careful. Gabriel doesn’t dare blink, half convinced that this, too, is just another memory, simply more powerful, made flesh.

“I spoke with Olivia this morning.” Jack’s shoulders bunch up and move under his suit jacket. Once he sets the coffee pot down he shucks it off and tosses it onto the kitchen table. “She convinced me to take some time off. Stay home. Get some rest.”

Jack turns around enough for Gabriel to catch the shadows under his eyes and a weak smile.

“She’s persuasive. Takes after her father.”

“Which one?”

“Who do you think?”

Gabriel wants to laugh, but he can’t muster the energy. “What are we doing, Jack?”

“Talking,” Jack responds. He pulls two cups down from a cupboard and slides one across the counter. “Just talking,” he repeats, voice falling to a whisper.

Gabriel wraps his hand around the empty cup, drumming his nails against the design. _40 - over the hill._ “Can’t remember the last time we talked this much.”

Jack bows his head into a slight nod. “I know.”

Gabriel sniffs. He drags his sleeve across his eyes. He’s all too aware of Jack’s gaze on him and tries to shrug it off. Play it cool. “You wanted me to come and get my stuff. I came. I got it. So…” Gabriel opens his hands to gesture at the whole of their barren, almost unrecognizable apartment. “What is this, Jack? You wanted to see me, you could have asked.”

“And what would you have said?” Jack’s voice rises in pitch but his posture remains calm as he takes the carafe and fill his cup. “I know you, Gabriel.”

“And I know _you_ ,” Gabriel snaps back. “You don’t play games, Jack.”

“This isn’t a game.”

Jack reaches across the counter for Gabriel’s cup. When he pushes it back towards him his fingers brush the back of Gabriel’s hand and he bites down hard on his lip to stave off a reaction.

Jack’s eyes flutter closed as he takes a long draw of his coffee. Gabriel lets his eyes roam over his tightly knitted features, indulging in the moment despite his better judgement. Jack’s hair is turning white at his temples and there is a worrying amount of stubble on his jaw considering how meticulous he is about shaving. Matched with the dark circles under his eyes he looks far older than his years.

“Why can’t you just say it?”

“Why can’t _you?_ ”

The sudden note of desperation, punctuated by Jack setting his cup down hard on the counter, fires through his nerves and starts his heart like an old-fashioned engine.

Regret and guilt build up in his throat, cutting off his breath, cutting off his words. He shakes his head. He’s sick of these games.

“You wanted to see me. Just say it.”

“Gabe—”

“Just _say_ it,” Gabriel pleads. He holds Jack’s gaze until he backs down, running a hand through his thinning hair as he turns away. “For fuck’s sake. It’s been three _goddamn_ months. I’m as sick of this as you are, okay?” His voice cracks. Gabriel swallows hard and forces it out. “You’re still my best friend, Jack.”

“I know.”

“You’re still—” Gabriel shuts himself up before he can say anything more dangerous and slips out of the chair, his coffee left untouched. “I need to go,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry I came at all.”

“Gabe, don’t—”

He makes it out the door and halfway down the hall before he realizes he’s forgotten his things and that he’s still wearing Jack’s sweater. He spins on his heel to face the door and freezes in place.

Jack has one foot in the hall and one hand on the doorframe.

Rain beats down hard on the roof. It mixes in with the dulled sound of music and washes over Rein’s booming laugh, still audible even from Ana’s room at the other end of the hall.

The familiarity of it aches in his bones, and that should tell him enough.

They’ve been here before. After one week. Three. Then a month. Never this long, and it’s never felt so absolute. Until now, Gabriel thinks, with the words waiting on the tip of his tongue.

He wants to ask Jack if he ever thinks about that night in Busan. Watching stars ripple and dance on top of dark water, their hands intertwined, Jack’s head on his shoulder. Feeling lost. Empty. Like they had nothing left in the world but each other.

“I miss you.”

Jack’s words pull him away from the docks and back to the present. He flounders in the hall, breathless with Jack’s eyes locked on him.

Jack hazards one step, uncertainty flickering in his eyes like a low burning flame.

“That’s what you want to hear, right?” Jack’s throat bobs. “I miss you, Gabe. I miss you so much I can’t breathe.”

Gabriel tears his eyes away. He can’t bear the weight of looking at Jack.

“I—” Jack stalls in the middle of a step and pulls back, his hands open in front of him. Begging. “I miss making coffee for you in the morning and I miss how you always hog the bathroom and, goddamn it, I miss sleeping in on Sundays and I miss going to see the kids together and—” He breaks on the word and laughs. Short, awkward, desperate. “I miss the way your eyes scrunch up when you laugh and I miss your terrible cooking and—”

“My cooking isn’t that bad.”

Jack shakes his head. A tiny smile arcs across his mouth. “That’s what got you out of all that?”

Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest and shifts his weight, one shoulder brushing the wall. He lowers his eyes, ignoring the tightly coiled human ball of anxiety in front of him.

They’ve been here before. It’s never quite the same but it’s always close enough, always feels just as bad when they inevitably round the track and play it again.

Circling the drain. Drip, drip, drip.

But he misses Jack, too. He won’t deny it.

Knowing that it’s better to walk away he steps toward Jack and tips his head toward the open door. “Coffee sounds nice after all,” he mumbles.

He feels safer inside with the door closed to buffer their apartment from the noise down the hall. Gabriel swirls a spoon in his coffee, clinking it against the rim of the cup. Jack stands on the other side of the counter, silent but more relaxed now, his cup steaming between his hands.

The silence sits. For the first time in a long time it feels comfortable.

“You know,” Jack sighs, “I missed this, too.”

“Yeah.”

Jack holds his gaze. In the dark his eyes hold a special gravity. He lowers his chin, reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “I’m not gonna ask you to stay tonight.”

“I know.”

Jack draws in a shaky breath. A low laugh bubbles out of his mouth and dies away. “That’s not...I don’t want you to think that’s why I wanted to talk.”

“I know, Jack.”

They talk. It’s just that and nothing more, the weight gone from Jack’s words. He bores Gabriel with details about the trip to New York he’d shrugged off before switching to talk about how’s Isaac’s home renovations were going, about how they’d gone down to the lake to fish a few weeks back and he’d felt the age melt off his bones. Gabriel lets him talk. He fades in and out, nostalgia lapping along the shores of his mind, memory strengthened by the lull of Jack’s voice.

The hour drags him down but he nods along, listening for his husband’s sake, until he’s staring at the bottom of his coffee cup, Jack’s voice replaced by the drone of rain and music, the record still spinning in their bedroom. No. Jack’s bedroom.

“It’s getting late.” He talks over Jack without thinking. A wide grin fades away, replaced by that all-too-familiar hollow look in his eyes. His gut twists. Always hard to cut things off, but he needs to, needs to walk away before they get too comfortable. No matter how much he wants it—needs it—too.

Jack nods as he rounds the counter and slides into the chair next to Gabriel. “Thank you. For listening.”

He sets one hand on the counter. Gabriel aches to take it in his, to wind their fingers together. Instead he folds his arms over his chest and leans back to put space between them.

Jack lifts his head enough for Gabriel to catch blue in the corner of his eyes before his gaze flickers away again.

There’s yearning there. Gabriel can see it and _feel_ it in the way Jack’s body is tensed beside him. It’s dangerous and all too familiar and before Gabriel can think twice about what he’s doing he’s standing by the door, his heart heavier than the box in his hands.

Jack doesn’t move from the counter.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.”

He pulls open the door and freezes over the threshold. Turning back, he allows himself one good, long look at his estranged husband.

He traces the fine lines in his brow and the deep circles under his eyes. The cut of his jaw. The sharp angle of his wide shoulders. The faded scars that decorate his collarbone and hide along his hairline.

Gabriel allows himself one last indulgence. He steels himself with a breath, ignoring the tightness in his throat and the prick of tears in his eyes.

“I miss you, too.”

* * *

 

_The stars hover above the water like fireflies, according to Jack. Gabriel doesn’t know well enough to say. To him, the ocean is nothing more than the ocean. It’s what sits a few hundred kilometres out that occupies his thoughts._

_A decommissioned oil rig. Instead of tearing it down decades ago Omnica had bought the scrap heap and built a factory atop it. Now, it is the single most dangerous geopoint on the planet._

_It’s up to him to find a way to take it out._

_He’s terrified and it shows. He tries to hide shaking hands by crossing his arms over his knees but Jack catches the movement and lifts a brow, conversation dragging to a halt. Gabriel chews on his lip and stays quiet, gaze focused on the dim light of a coast guard vessel coming back to shore._

_Jack’s touch on his arm is as cool as the salty sea breeze. “We’ve fought against worse odds,” he says. There’s a trace of a laugh in his voice, but it’s his smile that gets to Gabriel, makes his heart skip a beat. “Tell you what, Gabe. We’ll take some leave when we sink this scrapheap. Two weeks. I think we’ve earned it, don’t you? Where do you wanna go?”_

_Gabriel doesn’t answer. There’s no point._

_Jack sounds so sure, but he knows as well as Gabriel does that this will likely be their last mission._

_Getting a nuclear decommissioning team onto the rig in the first place—past floating outposts, sentry turrets, and aerial defences—is only half their problem. They’ll have to drill a hole through the wall of the Omnium just to get in, and from there, they’ll be trapped in labyrinthine halls choked with Bastions. Fighting in close quarters is always a challenge. Fighting with no real escape route is something else entirely._

_He’s gone over the plans for two weeks now, working out the knots, dreaming about the plays. There’s only so much prep work they can do. One day left until they go wings up and seal their fate over the Sea of Japan._

_Jack’s hand brushes over his chin. He slowly turns Gabriel to face him. The cool wind musses his hair and fights with the collar of his windbreaker. Looking into Jack’s clear eyes he feels the reality of their situation drip away until it is nothing but a whisper in the back of his head, for the moment._

_“We’re so close to the end,” Jack whispers, “We’re almost there, Gabe.”_

_A combination of necessity and foolish determination had formed the foundation of their strike team. Survivors, all of them, honed into a sharp edge held to the throat of the Crisis itself._

_They’ve come so far. Now, after years of fighting and completing missions like clockwork soldiers, he has a chance to think about what comes after._

_When the sun sets on the Crisis, he’s sure he’ll be dead. Jack keeps him awake at night, begging him to see it like he does. A rebirth. He wishes he could be so optimistic, but the war has dragged him down, reduced him to a walking set of shotguns._

_Jack kisses him. His lips are cold and he tastes like salt. Gabriel returns it half-heartedly. Eventually, Jack pulls away with a sigh and sidles closer, one arm snaking around his back to rest on his waist._

_They watch the lights of the city dance on dark water. Jack sets his head in the crook of Gabriel’s shoulder and simply rests there like they have every night since landing in Busan. It’s the only part of their daily routine that Gabriel looks forward to. There’s a thrill in sneaking away from the base clad in civilian clothes, keeping their heads down to avoid notice. For an hour each night they escape and sit and barely talk, just exist._

_“Can’t wait to go back home,” Jack muses, “You owe me a date.”_

_“Oh?”_

_Gabriel tears his focus away from the ocean. Jack’s eyes are shut and his expression is perfectly metered, mouth turned up in a smile, his brow smooth of worry. Gabriel reaches up to run his fingers under his jaw. Jack curls in tighter, closer. “Burgers and shakes. Remember?_

_He lets out a small, honest laugh. “Barely.”_

_How long ago had he made such a small promise?_

_“I’m gonna take you everywhere.” Jack rushes in, arms winding tight around Gabriel’s waist, nose brushing warm against his cheek. “Anywhere in the world. I wanna see it all.”_

_“Already have, Blondie.”_

_“Not like this. ”_

_Jack turns away. Reconstruction is the norm in every major city on the planet. There are so many dead and so many towns destroyed that can never be replaced._

_The weight settles back on his shoulders. Waves lap against the docks._

_“We’re gonna walk away from this, Gabe.”_

_He wants to agree but can’t even muster the strength to nod. He doesn’t believe it, not for a second. Doubts have his nerves in a vice grip. There are too many holes in their plan that they can’t cover. There’s a chance he’ll walk away, but he’s been command long enough, and seen enough, to know that not all of them will live through the assault._

_He feels for Jack’s hand. His response is immediate. Jack pulls his hand to his mouth and lays kisses along his knuckles._

_“I’m tired, Jack.”_

_Jack’s grip loosens. He pulls back enough to stare Gabriel in the eye. There’s something bright and defiant there, almost blinding._

_“I know, Gabe. I know. But we have to keep fighting, or what else was this all for?” Jack drops his hand to sweep his arm out over the edge of the docks. “We have to win this. Not for us. Not so we can go home, but so they can rebuild their homes.”_

_It’s part and parcel of Jack’s usual speech on nights like this, when his doubts become too apparent and sit on his skin. The selfless part of him usually feels emboldened by Jack’s words, but tonight, his heart surges with panic._

_“I want to go home.” His voice breaks but he won’t cry. Won’t let himself. “Don’t you?”_

_Jack’s eyes soften. A wide grin pulls across his mouth. “You’re my home.”_

_“Sap,” Gabriel scoffs. Jack laughs as he scoots closer again, their knees knocking together._

_“You’re the love of my life, Gabe.” Jack swoops in and grabs hold of Gabriel’s head to smack a loud, wet kiss against his cheek. Gabriel scrambles for purchase on the damp dock, aiming to get away, but Jack winds around him._

_Some nights they simply sit and watch the water. Other nights they make love under the stars. Tonight feels different, even through the haze of Gabriel’s worries. He can see it in Jack’s eyes, feel it in the way he kisses him until he’s breathless, heart aching._

_“We should take a walk downtown,” Jack suggests, one brow raised. There’s a grin on his face that gives him away but Gabriel doesn’t push, allows him the moment. “I know it’s late, but everything will still be open. Friday night.”_

_“And do what?”_

_Jack reaches down for his hand. He rubs his thumb over Gabriel’s knuckles. The city lights flicker in Jack’s eyes. “Get a cup of coffee, maybe? Pretend to be normal?”_

_He scoffs. Jack curls back onto his shoulder with a sigh._

_“Right. When have we ever been normal?”_

_“Back before SEP. Don’t act like you don’t remember.” Gabriel prod’s Jack’s large forehead just to annoy him. His mouth scrunches up into a pout. “How long’s it been, now?”_

_“Five years.”_

_“You ever dream we could get this far?”_

_Gabriel runs his fingers through Jack’s hair. His boyfriend looks terribly pleased and comfortable despite the chill, his smile soft, eyes closed. Gabriel counts the freckles on the bridge of his nose as he muses over how far they’ve come and how much they’ve changed. A farm boy and a city kid. Neither of them meant to be soldiers but shaped into heroes in the heat of the Crisis._

_They’ve grown together._

_“I always knew, Gabe,” Jack whispers, “I always knew it was you.”_

_Jack pulls away from his shoulder and takes his hands. His skin is cool and clammy but Gabriel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s looking at the gentle curve of Jack’s smile._

_“I was lost until I found you,” Jack whispers. He leans in, head tilted, his breath warm against Gabriel’s skin. The kiss is small and chaste, and Jack pulls away far too soon, but Gabriel’s heart hammers in his chest and his breath catches in his throat. Head clear, he hums a note of appreciation as one of Jack’s hands roams up his neck to rake through his cropped hair. Jack leans in to kiss the tip of his nose, smile cracking into a laugh. Tears shine in his eyes, but before Gabriel can ask, he’s talking._

_“You’re right, you know,” Jack sighs, voice tight, “This could be our last night. I don’t want to believe it. Not for a second. But...we’ve come close before.”_

_Jack brushes his fingers gently across Gabriel’s brow. He’s tracing old scars from battles they’d almost lost. It’s a usual comfort when they have rare time alone._

_“And I don’t want to take it for granted, Gabe. If I die, I want it to be with no regrets.” Jack’s grip tightens on his hand. He’s shaking, now. Fear, or the cold? “Remember when we promised we’d go out together?”_

_He could never forget that dreary night in the black forest, huddled together in a tent among skeletal trees, listening to the constant drone of gunfire and rockets. Reinhardt snored beside them as they laid awake, hands entwined. Rain tapped against the tent and shooks the branches of the trees. They’d been in Germany for three weeks, fighting with local forces to push past an unbreakable Omnic defense so they could get their team into one of Stuttgart’s Omniums. Gabriel was nursing a nasty wound to the side, and Jack had been glued to him since he left the med tent, his eyes clouded with worry. They’d stayed awake, unable to sleep, comfortable in each other’s arms, whispering promises they didn’t know they could keep._

_“I remember.”_

_“I love you so goddamn much, Gabe.” Jack’s voice breaks. He leans in to touch their foreheads. The city lights reflect in the streak of tears down his cheek. “You’re everything.”_

_Gabriel takes Jack’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing away his tears. It’s not like Jack to cry; he goes still and silent, but never lets it show, not like this. “Hey, listen to your own advice.”_

_A sob turns into a short, awkward laugh. “Fuck off.”_

_Gabriel pulls Jack to his chest. He melts onto his shoulder, arms winding around his neck. Gabriel simply holds him, running his hands through fine blond hair, watching the water, until Jack’s breaths even out._

_“Marry me, Gabe.”_

_Gabriel freezes. Jack pulls away, his eyes drenched with stars._

_He fights for breath. “Jack—”_

_“There are always chapels open,” Jack says, “I know this probably isn’t how you wanted to do this, but—”_

_Gabriel fights past the knot in his throat to speak. “You want to get married?”_

_“That’s what I asked, isn’t it?”_

_Jack shows his teeth in a cocky grin. Gabriel rolls his eyes. “I just...I didn’t think that’s something you wanted.”_

_“Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” Jack takes his face in his hands. His expression grows serious. Gabriel reminds himself to breathe, to think, but everything feels so hard with the tightness in his chest. “It’s always been you, Gabe. You’re my heart. You’re my home. I believe in you. I believe in us.” Jack draws closer, eyes fluttering closed. His breath is sweet and Gabriel aches to kiss him, to melt into him. “Marry me.”_

_Jack closes the distance between them, arms winding tight around his neck. Gabriel holds Jack like a lifeline as tears spill out of his eyes, unbidden. He can’t hold back on it anymore and chokes on a sob. Jack breaks away, concern brighter than the reflection of the city in his eyes._

_“Gabe?”_

_“Yes,” he croaks, “Yes, God, yes. I’ll marry you, Jack. Of course I’ll marry you.”_

_He doesn’t think about the possible repercussions about him marrying someone under his command when Jack kisses the tears on his cheeks. He doesn’t think about death waiting out on still, dark waters. He doesn’t think about anything but the taste of Jack, the warmth of his hands, the gentle sound of his voice. Jack promises him forever in words and touches as they wind through the dark city streets. Gabriel promises the same to him, in turn, and they trade laughter and smiles._

_He doesn’t think about anything else until they’re standing in front of a chapel, neon lights burning into the dark._

_Jack takes his hand and Gabriel is home._

**Author's Note:**

> This is half a vent fic and half a break from Fortunate Son. Fic title is from Elo's Big Wheels. That's all I have to say about that  
> Dedicated to the ones I love ♥
> 
> skiesovertatooine.tumblr.com


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